


Never Leave Me

by MercurialTenacity



Series: Yours [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banishment, Collars, Crying, Dark Original Percival Graves, Dehumanization, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Face Slapping, Fisting, Gangbang, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Lies, M/M, Manipulation, Master/Pet, Nipple Play, Non-Consensual Blow Jobs, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Obedience, Oral Sex, Ownership, Pet Names, Possessive Behavior, Prostate Massage, Punishment, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sort Of, Stockholm Syndrome, Tattoos, Torture, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 15:07:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12773607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercurialTenacity/pseuds/MercurialTenacity
Summary: Master has left overnight before, but Newt always feels hollow without being at his side.  He doesn't really understand where Master went, but he'd explained it was something important and that Newt must be good and wait for him.  Newt wants to be good.  He does.  But he misses his Master.Footsteps in the corridor rouse him from his thoughts.  When the door opens their eyes fall on Newt almost immediately.  The weight of the three men’s gazes on him makes him shiver and press deeper into the cushions of the chair.“Hey baby,” one of the men says, and another laughs.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another custom request for Anonymous! I was so glad to continue this series, thank you for making it possible <3
> 
> \--
> 
> Just to be clear, nothing that happens in this story is consensual. The Graves/Newt content is a lot gentler than the rest of it, but Newt is not in a state where he can give consent

Newt misses his master.

He's left overnight before, but Newt always feels hollow without being at Master’s side.  He doesn't really understand where Master went, but he'd explained it was something important and that Newt must be good and wait for him.

Newt wants to be good for Master.  He really does.

But it's hard.  He feels useless without Master touching him, adrift and alone.  Everything’s so clear when Master is there to tell him what to do, and so muddled when he’s alone.  He curls in on himself tighter, trying to imagine Master’s hand around his throat, guiding him to where he needs to be.

He’s snuggled into one of the chairs in the parlor, hugging a pillow which smells like his master as the thin winter sun streams over his skin from the large windows.  It’s almost peaceful, and Master will be back tomorrow, and then everything will be all right.

The sound of footsteps from the hallway rouses him from his thoughts, and he shifts to look over at the door as they grow closer.  The Graves Manor is the center of Master’s rule, the place where he conducts most of his affairs, and it’s always full of his followers.  Newt is usually kept in the private rooms, but he still sees them from time to time when they come to meet with Master.  Newt wonders if they’re looking for Master now.  Perhaps they don’t realize he’s not here.

When the door opens their eyes fall on Newt almost immediately.  The weight of the three men’s gazes on him makes him press deeper into the cushions of the chair.

“Hey baby,” one of the men says, and another laughs.

Newt looks up at him with wide eyes.  This has never happened before, and he doesn't understand.  He slowly pushes himself up, hugging the pillow to his chest and shrinking back into the chair.

“Aw, no, it's okay,” the man says, smiling.  He’s` been smiling the whole time, and it's a funny sort of smile.  “Lord Graves asked us to find you.  We're here to check on you, okay baby?”  He speaks slowly, as though Newt might not understand.

This has  _ never  _ happened before.  A boy called Credence comes to check on him and feed him while Master’s away, not these men. 

But Newt is good.  He does as Master says, even if he doesn't know why.  After a moment Newt nods.

The man’s smile widens into a grin.  “Good, yeah, real good boy.”

The man on Newt’s right steps closer, tugging Master’s pillow from his arms and tossing it over to the nearby couch.  His gaze flicks down Newt’s body, lingering on his nipples and his cock, heavy in its cage.

“God, look at him.  Bet he just rolls right over for it.”

“Yeah, he’ll go real easy.  Soft little thing, can’t wait to feel his mouth.”

Newt curls farther back into the chair, uncertain.  When Master talks like that it makes him feel warm, but to hear these men talk about his body makes something twist inside him.  Only Master talks about him that way, he belongs to Master.

He tries to shrink back but the man catches his arm, pulling him forward.

“Don't be like that baby, c’mon.”

The man cups his cheek, resting a thumb on his lip and pressing down.  Newt lets his lips part.

“Yeah… good boy.”

The man rubs the pad of his thumb over Newt’s lip for a moment, watching him.  After a second of hesitation Newt nuzzles his cheek into the man’s palm, hoping it’s what he wants.  It always makes Master happy.

It seems to work, because the man’s smile widens.

Pleased with Newt’s obedience he replaces his thumb with two fingers, pressing them into the wetness of his mouth.  They’re heavy on his tongue as he suckles them, pliant but unsure.  Master always knows what’s best for him - if he sent these men, maybe they do too?

He pushes his fingers deeper, but Newt is a good boy and doesn’t gag.

“See Tommy?” the man says over his shoulder.  “Told you he’d be easy.”

Tommy steps forward, staring as his friend’s fingers disappear into Newt’s mouth.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says, voice low and rough.

Newt flushes, feeling heat creep into his cheeks as he suckles the man’s fingers.  It draws out a groan, and Newt does his best to be compliant as he fucks his fingers in and out of his mouth.

After a moment he pulls back, and long strands of saliva drip down Newt’s chin.  With one hand he grips the back of Newt’s neck, and he drops his spit-slick fingers down to circle one of Newt’s peaked, rosy nipples.

Newt gasps and jerks back, folding his arms over his chest protectively as he tries to twist away, because that can’t possibly be allowed.  He knows who he belongs to.  He’s for Master, not these men.

“Hey - little bitch, what -”

“Only - only Master,” Newt chokes out.  “Only for Master.”  

The man looks angry, and Newt trembles.  He’s scared, but he doesn’t want to be bad.  Master owns him, Master’s the only one allowed to use him.  Newt ducks his head down, submissive, afraid of what will happen to him if the man doesn’t get what he wants.

For a moment the man looks livid, but then he smiles again.  It’s the same slow smile like there’s a joke Newt doesn’t understand.

“Is that right?  You’re just trying to be a good boy, huh.  Well you’re in luck baby,” the man says, kneeling down in front of him.  “Your Master said we could do this.”

Newt looks up at him in surprise, uncertainty clear in his eyes.

“Yeah, he said we could use you.  What’s the point of you sitting around here all alone?  He wanted you put to work while he was gone.”

“Frank’s right,” Tommy jumps in.  “He told us he doesn’t mind sharing.  So why don’t you be a good doll and do what we say?”

“You want to obey your master, don’t you?” Frank asks, and Newt nods quickly.  “Then let me touch you.”

Frank takes hold of his wrists, maneuvering his arms to the side so his chest is bare and exposed.  Newt lets him, head spinning.  What did they mean, Master said they could?  That Master doesn’t mind sharing?  Master always said Newt was his and his alone.  Did he…. Did Newt do something wrong?

Frank squeezes his nipple, and it sends sparks dancing across his chest.  He’s so sensitive there, it’s too much, and he can’t help the way he whimpers as Frank tugs.

“Oh, you like it when I pull on your titties?  Answer me.”

Newt whines, caught in Frank’s hands.   _ “N-no,” _ he moans.  “Please stop, please -”

Frank laughs, and he doesn't stop.

Suddenly there are more hands on him, people on all sides - all touching him and pulling him up and Newt doesn’t know whose hands to follow.  Frank still has him by the nipples, pulling him forward while Newt lurches after him.  There’s a hand clamped around the back of his neck, shifting to grab him by the collar and yank him up, and another grip tight on his arms.

He ends up on the sofa, lying back against Frank’s chest as he rubs his tits in slow circles, cupping and caressing him.  The other men have hands on him too, there are fingers back in his mouth and his legs are being spread apart but it's hard to focus with the sensation in his nipples, rough tugs that make him want to curl away.

When Master plays with his tits it always feels so good, why is this so different?  Frank is rougher than Master, tugging almost cruelly, and Newt gasps and twitches in his arms with the discomfort of it.

He suckles on the fingers in his mouth, turning his head on instinct to give easier access.  He wishes Master were here.  Master always takes care of him, Master knows exactly what to do.

These men are rough, there's something unsettling about the way they touch him, and most of all - why doesn't Master want to keep him to himself anymore?  That thought twists deep into Newt’s chest, flooding him with worry which mounts into near panic.  Master had promised that he loved Newt, that Newt belonged to  _ him _ and no one else, that he'd keep Newt safe.

Why would he send these men?

He feels a hand on his cock, encased in its shining metal, and he flinches.

In moments there are thick, rough fingers pushing at his hole.  Newt whines and twists, trying to escape the painful drag against his rim.  He’s not wet for them, and the way the fingers catch on his sensitive skin as they try to press inside him makes his stomach lurch.  He tries to protest around the fingers in his mouth but they just push in deeper until he chokes, Frank is holding him so tightly he can’t move and he feels like he’s drowning,  _ where is Master - _

He yelps as the tip of one blunt finger enters him and without thinking he kicks out wildly, shocked to feel his foot actually connect with something.  There’s a grunt and a muttered  _ “Fuck, bitch -” _ and then Frank is on top of him.

Newt doesn’t even know how he moved so fast.  Their positions are reversed, Newt trapped on the couch underneath Frank’s weight, unable to move.  One hand grips his wrists painfully tight and the other grips his throat.  Newt feels his heartbeat hammering in his chest as he looks up at the man above him, and sees no pity in his eyes.

Newt expects to be forced, held open and taken as they like, made to submit.  He imagines Frank will beat or choke him until he can’t fight anymore, and then these men will use him.

When Frank leans down with his lips to Newt’s ear he tenses, expecting pain.  He wishes for all the world that Master had just told him what to do.

“Do you know where your master went, baby?”

Newt stares up at the ceiling and shakes his head, cheek scratching against Frank’s rough stubble.

“He went to buy a new pet.”

Newt’s heart drops right out of his chest.  

He can’t remember how to breathe, his entire body going limp.

“Yeah.  Guess you weren’t such a good toy after all.  He’s not gonna need you once your replacement gets here, so he gave you to us.  Now.  Are you going to be a good little sexpet and let yourself get fucked?”

Newt nods, helpless, reeling.

He loves Master more than anything in the world, and Master threw him away. Worse than that, he’s been  _ replaced.   _ Master will have another pet now, one he loves more than Newt.   He belongs to these men now.  It’s what Master wants.  There are tears welling in his eyes.

He doesn’t protest at all as Frank shifts to straddle Newt’s chest and take one of his nipples in his mouth, only letting out a shuddery gasp with how overwhelmed he is between the sensation and the grief. He lays still for it, letting him do as he wants with his body.  It’s his right.  

Newt will do anything Master says, even if it’s that he doesn’t want him anymore.

There are more hands on him again, too many hands, pulling him up until his head is tipped back over the arm of the couch, level with the crotch of the man behind him.  Newt can't tell which of them it is, but he opens his mouth without protest.  He wants so desperately to be good.

A hard cock slaps against his cheek and Newt lets out a small, choked breath.  He wants to beg for his master, but he doesn't.

He closes his eyes as precome is smeared across his face, over his cheeks and chin and lips, doing his best to keep his jaw open and relaxed.  He knows how to do this, he just has to let it happen.  There's a hard knot in his stomach, but he tells himself that maybe it won't be so bad.  He likes the feel of Master’s cock in his mouth, and maybe,  _ maybe  _ he can pretend it's the same thing.

It's not.  

The cock enters him roughly, thrusting down his throat in one quick movement.  The man’s balls slap against his face, and it's only due to the time Master spent training him that he manages not to choke.  He tries to swallow around it but the man is already thrusting, slamming into him hard and fast and brutal.  Newt gulps desperately and lets it happen, relaxing his throat as obscene, filthy noises are fucked out of him, thick saliva spilling over his face.

This is what he's for, they're allowed to do this, he can take it, it's okay -

The angle of the thrusting changes, hitting the back of Newt’s throat, and he fills with shame as he fails and gags painfully, body convulsing in Frank’s hold.

Until he hears the groan above him, and realizes that they  _ wanted  _ him to gag.  Now that he's started he can't stop, he doesn't have a moment to recover, the thrusts come hard and fast and he can't keep up.  He can't find purchase with his hands pinned down, there are fingers between his legs again, probing and prying into him and opening him up, and he wants to scream but he can't.

He can't do anything but take it.

The fingers breach him at the same time the cock lodges deep in his throat, hands squeezing his head to hold him in place as come is pumped into him.  He can't breathe but swallowing is more important, and he takes it all.

The man wipes his wet cock on Newt’s cheek as it softens, and he can see through tear filled eyes that it was Tommy.  He sobs as soon as he has the breath to do so, face a mess of saliva and tears, mouth full of the bitter taste of come.

“Fucking amazing,” Tommy is saying.  “Jack, you gotta try the mouth, best thing I've felt in years.”  His cock is still resting against Newt’s cheek, and he doesn't dare move.

Jack barely even glances from between his legs, fingers pumping in and out of him.  Newt realizes with a dull start that he didn't notice when Jack added more.

“I'm getting a piece of this ass - it'll feel so good, can't wait -” he punctuates his words by scissoring his fingers, and Newt trembles.

Master had always treasured him.  He'd once called Newt his most prized possession, and Newt had never felt so warm.

These men are going to tear him to pieces.

Frank lets up the relentless tugging at his nipples to grip his hair, yanking his head up until he can look in Newt’s hazy, unfocused eyes.

“Good boy,” he growls, and with one hand fisted in Newt’s hair he slaps him across the face.

Newt gasps, reeling from the harsh sting. Tommy presses close behind him, gripping his throat and holding him in place as Frank hits him again.

“Please!” Newt whimpers.  “Please, I'll be good -”

“I know you will, baby.”  Frank cups the hot, reddened skin of Newt’s cheek, rubbing almost gently before his palm cracks across the other side of Newt’s face.  Tears sting his eyes.  “I just want to hit you.”

Jack’s fingers pump in and out of him, the way eased slightly by slickness he must have conjured.  It still burns, and every time Frank slaps him his body tenses, hole contracting around Jack’s fingers and sending pain shooting through him.  

He just wants it to stop.

He wants it all to stop.

A sob tears itself from his chest, shaking him as the blows fall.  

When Master spanked him it had felt good knowing he was being marked, made him floaty and content, but this  _ hurts. _  He’s trapped and he feels so helpless, he doesn’t know what to do.

It takes a moment for Newt to realize when it finally ends.  He feels dizzy, the burning sting in his cheeks all encompassing.  He looks up to see Frank raising his hand once more and he flinches back violently, closing his eyes and trying to make himself small, but Frank just laughs.  The blow doesn’t land.

Newt whimpers.  He needs time to breathe, to recover, he knows what he’s for and he would do it, they don’t have to hurt him.

But they want to, and they get to do what they want.

Newt almost manages.  He can almost exist while this happens to him, almost make it through, and then the length of Jack’s cock enters him.

The breath rushes out of Newt in an instant, his eyes widening.  Jack is thick and long, his thrusts punishing, and Newt can’t even see him behind Frank straddling his chest.  He feels more hands on him again, moving his head, guiding his mouth open, and he realizes Tommy is prying his mouth wide while Frank jerks off above him, coming moments later into his open mouth.

Time gets fuzzy after that.  

He’s aware of hands, always so many hands, pulling him in different directions and doing with him what they will.  There’s always something in his holes and it makes sense, he needs to be filled.  Master always says that’s what he’s for so it’s good, right?  He doesn’t know.  He hears sobbing and thinks it’s probably him.  He tries to do what they want but he can’t anticipate it.  He keeps losing track and he gets hit anyway, until eventually he just lets them move him and use his body how they want.

He ends up on the floor somehow.  It’s cold and hard beneath him as he’s fucked, and he moans when they slap his ass.

His head lolls to the side, mouth half open.

Something big is stretching him, forcing its way inside and fucking little breaths out of him.  He's loose enough to take it, hole soft and unresisting as it's worked inside, but he can still feel the burn of the stretch.  All at once the muscle gives, and the thing is lodged deep inside him.

“Look at that, taking it all - his ass just swallows it right up.”

“He likes it, listen to him moan.”

“Yeah, likes getting fucked on my fist - he's so soft inside, god I could do this all night.”

Newt pants, little breaths forced out of him as the fist inside him rocks, rubbing against his insides.  He stares out across the room, eyes glassy.

The fist thrusts once, twice, again, and Newt can't breathe.

His awareness slips again.

The next thing he knows he's empty, so achingly, horribly empty that he mewls.

Words swirl above him.

“Begging for it, god.”

“Look at him gape.”

“Gonna break the bitch.”

He tries to make his ass close up, and he can't.

He doesn't know all the things they make him take.  He lies there unmoving save for how he rocks with it while they fuck his body.

He can’t even cry.

 

\--------------------

 

They leave, eventually.  He doesn’t notice when, but he realizes after a while that they’re gone.  The blows he’s still anticipating are never going to land.  

He’s…. safe?

He doesn’t know.  Everything feels strange.

He can’t stand, so he crawls.  All the long way back to Master’s private rooms, to the cushion at the end of Master’s bed, he crawls.  He cleans himself off as best he can, but he keeps forgetting what he’s doing and staring off into space.

He starts shaking.  Little trembles at first, growing until he’s wracked with constant shudders and he curls in on himself to try to keep them at bay, because if they continue he is going to shake apart.

He feels warmth against him, and softness - purring in his ear.  His cat is rubbing against him, the cherished present Master gave him for being so good.  He’s grateful for the warmth, however slight.  He wonders if Master will take his cat away to give to the new pet.


	2. Chapter 2

Graves wants nothing more than to fall into bed.  His trip was long and tedious, filled with political maneuvering and careful negotiations, and he craves the simplicity of his kitten’s warm, soft body pressed against him.

He quickly kicks off his shoes, taking off his coat and gesturing for it to hang itself up with a tired wave.

“Here kitten,” he calls, heading down the hall towards the bedroom.  “Master’s home.”

His pet will be so glad to see him.  Graves demands nothing less than his complete devotion, and the boy adores him - practically worships him.  Graves had once worried about leaving him alone, concerned that his pretty little head would fill with ideas of being a person, but no longer.  Now he's simply eager to curl into Graves’ arms and do as he's told.

Graves pushes open the bedroom door to find his kitten curled sweetly on the floor at the foot of his bed, wrapped into a ball and breathing deeply.  As Graves approaches he cracks his eyes open, blinking sleepily.  Graves smiles.  He never has gotten over how adorable his kitten is.

“Miss me?” he asks softly, kneeling down beside his pet.  He reaches to stroke the back of the boy’s neck, but the moment his fingers brush skin his kitten flinches away, curling tighter into himself.  

Graves tightens his grip.  His pet is not allowed to resist any of his touches.  He usually presses into them eagerly, desperate for his master.

It barely takes a moment for his pet to relax again, muscles losing their tension, and then he's nuzzling into Graves’ hand in the greeting he expected, and Graves decides to let it slide.

He pulls his kitten in close, kissing him gently before scooping him into his arms and carrying him to the bed.  The boy clings to him, and Graves could swear he's just barely trembling.

Graves settles with him on the bed, pulling the boy in so he’s snuggled close against Graves’ chest.  It’s one of Graves’ favorite ways to hold his kitten, with his head tucked into Graves’ shoulder, but today something is… off.  His pet doesn’t nuzzle into him the way he should, he just lets himself be moved and positioned.  Graves has nothing against the boy being loose and pliant in his arms, but he expects a certain degree of eagerness as well.  Graves is the only stable thing left in his life after all, he’s made sure of it.  It should be instinct for the boy to take comfort from him.

“What’s wrong, kitten?” he murmurs.  “Tell me.”

His kitten makes a soft little sound but doesn’t answer, and then he does snuggle closer, pressing himself in tight and wrapping his arms around Graves’ neck as though Graves were going to be ripped away from him.  Graves strokes a hand up and down his back, slow and comforting.

“Hush,” he consoles, “Master’s here.”

He strokes his hand down further, over the rise of the boy’s ass and parting his cheeks to circle his hole.  It never fails to calm his kitten to be stroked there.

What he finds makes him still.  His pet’s hole is puffy, swollen, and  _ wet. _  He withdraws his fingers and they’re coated in a sticky, white substance.  Someone else has come in his kitten.

“What is this?” he demands, voice cold.

The boy tries to press into him but Graves pulls back, grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him down into the sheets, looming above him with a storm in his eyes.  How  _ dare  _ his pet give himself to someone else.  He is Graves’ property.  His body and mind are Graves’ to control, and Graves’ alone.  He doesn’t get to make decisions about how or when he’s fucked, he simply does as he’s told.  For him to give Graves’ property to someone else is unforgivable.

“Who?” he growls.  He’ll see them both burn.   _ “Who?” _

The boy sobs and Graves shakes him violently, a curse on his lips ready to make his pet wish he had talked when suddenly he breaks.

_ “Why!?”  _ he wails.  He’s sobbing so hard he can barely get the words out, but he tries all the same.  “Why d-did you s-send them?  Why don’t you - don’t you -” the boy gasps through his sobs, and when he speaks again it’s barely a whisper.  “Why don’t you want me?  Why did you g-give me away?”

Graves’ anger evaporates in an instant.  “What?  Who told you all that?”

“The men you sent.”

“Oh, darling.”  Suddenly Graves understands all too well.  “I didn’t send any men.”

“B-but you said they could have me!  They - you said -”

“No.  They tricked you, little kitten.  Do you see?  They wanted to steal you from me, so they told you lies.”

His kitten just seems to crumble.  Graves can only imagine the things they must have filled his little head with to make him believe he was being good, and it makes him burn.  Whoever it was, he'll destroy them.

But first - first he'll tend to the poor wounded creature in his bed.  He needs the little thing to know how treasured he is, how glad Graves is to own him.

“Come now, sweet thing.”

He gathers his kitten into his arms and he goes easily, letting Graves move him.  Tears still run down his cheeks, and Graves wipes them away with a gentle thumb.

“Master’s here now.  Everything’s fine, I've got you.  Did they hurt you, kitten?”

He nods, head buried in Graves’ shoulder.

“Tell me.  Tell Master what they did.”

“H-hit me,” his pet chokes out.  His hand floats up to his cheek in remembrance of pain, and Graves brushes it away to stroke the soft skin himself.

“Used me - I didn’t want them to -”

“Shhhh.”  Graves settles a firm hand on the back of his neck, wrapping his other hand around his hips protectively.  His pet shivers, then stills.  He’s so small in Graves’ arms, so soft.  “Nothing will ever hurt you again.  No one will so much as look at you.  You belong to  _ me,  _ and me alone.”

His pet squeezes his eyes shut, breathing still labored, and Graves can’t bare to see his precious thing in so much pain.  He’ll have the throat of whoever did this.

Slowly, gently, Graves strokes his hand down his pet’s chest, down his abdomen, to settle on his lower belly.  His fingers trace over the delicate lines inked into his skin, marking him irrevocably with the crest of the noble House of Graves.

“Did you forget about this?” he asks softly.

The kitten shakes his head, and Graves smiles.

“Look at it,” Graves commands, and his pet does.  He opens his eyes and looks down at himself, breath evening out when he sees his Master’s mark.

“Nothing will ever take you from me.”

His pet meets his gaze with big, wide eyes, and he nods.

Graves smiles.  He leans in slowly to taste his pet, one hand on the back of his neck to hold him steady.  His lips part automatically for Graves’ advances, mouth loose so that Graves can lick into him deeply.  He tastes so sweet.  Graves kisses him again, again, again, all lips and tongue until his kitten is breathless, head tipped back with his eyes closed and mouth open as he waits for the next touch of lips.

Graves draws a hand from his hip up his side, feeling the subtle bump of each rib as he does so.  The kitten makes the softest, sweetest noise and Graves does it again before dragging his fingers across his chest to find one peaked little nipple.  His breathing changes, becoming deep yet ragged in that distinctive way it does when Graves makes his pet feel so, so good.

Graves gently pinches the cute, rosy nipple, squeezing just enough for his boy to feel it.

“Uhhh -  _ uh.” _

The boy turns his head to muffle his sweet noises in Graves’ shoulder, and he smiles fondly.  After all this time, it’s adorable when his pet still pretends to be shy.  Graves takes him by the chin, turning him until he’s laying back with his eyes closed and mouth open, his soft, reluctant moans filling the room.

Graves massages him, rolling his nipples between his fingers, pressing into him, stroking the lines of his muscles until the trembling stops entirely.  All he needs is his Master’s touch.

“Nothing will ever take you away from me, sweet thing.”

The kitten presses up into the touch and Graves rubs his belly in reward, making him squirm and blush.

“You’ll never leave these rooms again.  Master will keep you safe.”

When Graves’ hand slips down further his boy’s legs fall open automatically, easily spreading so that Graves can circle his hole.  He frowns at what he finds there, still wet and swollen from the filth other men forced inside him, and he won’t allow it a moment longer.  He gently circles the rim of his pet’s sensitive hole, murmuring words to draw the filth from him and heal him.

It must be pleasurable for the kitten because he gives a little cry, hips tilting up into Graves’ hand.

“Sweet thing.  You like that.”

His pet nods silently, and Graves smiles.  He presses the tip of one finger deeper, feeling the muscle yield around him, and his pet is so soft inside.

In a quick, fluid movement Graves rolls them over, blanketing his pet’s body with his own.  He's warm and soft, absolutely pliant under Graves’ weight.

Graves takes his kitten’s wrists, stretching his arms above his head and pinning them there.  His grip is firm but not rough, guiding the kitten to where he needs to be.  He knows how much his kitten craves control.  He looks so at peace when he feels owned, and Graves will give him exactly what he needs.  He’s been through enough, Graves won’t make him worry his pretty little head with anything other than complete obedience.

“Don’t move, darling,” he whispers, and the kitten gives a little sigh.

Graves runs his hands down his pet’s body, stroking over his arms and caressing his ribs and spine.  His fingers dip down beneath his chest to squeeze his nipples before gliding down to circle his waist, his hips.  They come to rest on his ass, rubbing deep, soothing circles into the flesh, and Graves growls in satisfaction at the high, desperate noises of pleasure that fall from his pet’s open mouth.

He preps his pet thoroughly, stretching him and conjuring enough slick that he’s dripping.  He takes his time massaging his soft, warm insides, until his hole is loose and lax, begging to be fucked.  He loves what it does to his pet, the way he squirms and moans, just waiting for his master’s cock.

Graves takes himself out of his pants, pressing the head of his cock to his pet’s eager hole.  He rubs it back and forth, letting his pet feel what’s about to happen and groaning himself at the sensation.

When he can’t deny either of them any longer he presses inside, inch by inch, struck by how eagerly the boy’s little hole welcomes him inside.  It feels right - they fit together perfectly, they always have, and Graves doesn’t know how he got so lucky to find a boy made just for him.

When he’s fully seated, cock deep inside his kitten’s fluttering hole, he kisses him.  He mouths at his neck, open-mouthed and messy, teeth worrying little red patches into his skin, relishing the way it makes him squirm and mewl.

He rolls his hips once, twice, and his kitten’s whole body rolls with it.

“You feel that?  You feel Master’s cock in you?”

His kitten nods, hips pressing back to try to take Graves impossibly deeper.  He holds the position Graves put him in, but his body is squirming to get  _ more. _

Graves will give it to him.

“I’m going to fuck you, kitten.  I’m going to fuck you until it’s all you know, until you forget you  _ ever _ existed without me inside you.”  Graves thrusts then, hard, making his kitten shake.  “You’re mine, every part of you.  Your darling, empty head, your pretty nipples, your limp little dick.  Your sweet mouth.  Your  _ hole. _  All.  Mine.”  He punctuates his words with quick, sharp jabs of his hips, driving his cock deeper into the unresisting body beneath him.

“Say it,” he orders, and the kitten moans and pants, struggling to draw breath enough to speak.

“Yours,” he manages.  “I’m yours, a -  _ ahhh…  _ all yours.”

“Tell me.”

“Belong to you.  O-only you, only Master…”

“God, that’s right.  Again.”

“Yours - yours - you - uh,  _ uhh -” _

Graves holds the boy tight, fucking his pet’s breath away hard and deep.  He knows what his boy needs and this - this is it.  He bites his shoulder, hard enough to draw a whine and leave a bruise, marking him - claiming him.

“Going to come in you,” Graves grunts.  “Fill you up so deep -”

_ “Please,” _ his kitten begs, and that’s all Graves needs. His hips stutter to a halt buried deep in his pet’s hole, cock pulsing and twitching as he fills him.  It’s so good, so right, and for a moment Graves just lets himself feel his cock being milked by that sweet little hole.

He holds his kitten close to his chest as he comes down from it, breathing deep and body heavy.  The kitten sobs as Graves pulls his softening cock out, whole body pushing back against him and seeking contact, and Graves soothes him with gentle fingers on his nipples.

With a quick flick of his fingers he summons one of the plugs from the bedside table, pressing it into his pet’s hole with the barest trifle of resistance.

“Master’s come is inside you,” he murmurs.  “Do you feel it?”

The kitten nods, eyes closed.

“You love it.  You  _ need  _ it.  Tell me how much you need to be filled with my come.”

“So much,” he gasps.  “Need to be filled, please - please may I keep your come inside me Master, it feels so - so  _ good -” _

“That’s right.  I’m going to keep you so full little kitten, don’t you worry.  I’ll keep your belly full of Master’s come.”

The kitten moans, squirms, and Graves smiles.  He knows what it means, how the arousal is racing through his kitten’s body with nowhere to go, no release.

Graves really shouldn’t indulge him, but he always has spoiled the darling thing.

Graves toys with the plug in his hole, pressing it into him and enjoying the gasps and whines it prompts, the voiceless little cries.  He rubs it against his insides, knowing all the right places, searching until he finds that most sensitive spot inside him and his kitten quivers.  _  There. _

He doesn’t relent, pressing and rubbing that spot until the kitten’s breath comes in short gasps, until his fingers twist into the sheets in search of an anchor, until his little cock, kept permanently soft in its metal sheath, dribbles thin fluid onto the sheets.

His pet is limp and soft on the bed, eyes half closed as he breathes through the pleasure.  He so rarely experiences it that Graves imagines it must be overwhelming for him.  He strokes his fingers lightly over his back and sides, drawing shivers out of his skin.

Graves lies down alongside his kitten, hand stroking his belly to settle him.  The kitten presses back against him, curling into the safety of his arms with a small, sleepy sound that makes Graves want to hold him tight and never let go.

“Now, my darling little kitten,” he murmurs in the boy’s ear.  “Tell Master who hurt you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter is a short epilogue. Enjoy! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Graves watches with his face a mask of a brewing storm as three men are brought before him.

Three of his followers.  Three men who betrayed him the moment his back was turned.

The kitten trembles in his lap, clinging to him, terrified of these men, and Graves soothes him by stroking a gentle hand down his spine.  He’ll show his kitten that he has nothing to fear.

_ “Crucio,” _ he says carelessly, and the room echoes with screams.  Graves watches dispassionately as they twitch and convulse on the floor, bodies wracked with justly deserved pain.  He will deliver tenfold in pain the pleasure they took from his pet.

When he finally lifts the spell the three men lay limp on the floor, shuddering through the aftershocks, and Graves gestures to have them pulled upright.

The room is full, ostensibly as guards for the prisoners, but more importantly as witnesses.  Graves wants it known what happens to those who take what’s his.

“Please My Lord,” one of the men - Graves hadn’t bothered to learn which was which - gasps.  “We didn’t know - he’s just a slave, we didn’t think -”

_ “Crucio,” _ Graves says again.  When the screams subside this time he turns to his kitten, cupping his cheek and gently brushing a lock of his beautiful red hair from his forehead.  “You are the most lovely, precious thing I have ever owned.  Do you understand?  You are so important to Master.”

The kitten looks at him with wide eyes, and he nods.

Graves takes him by the back of the neck and kisses him, deep and passionate, possessive, until the kitten is dizzy and breathless in his arms.

“I’m so sorry My Lord - so sorry -  _ please  _ -”

_ “Crucio.” _

One of the men is sobbing, another has gone silent, and Graves smiles.

He doesn’t know what they expected to happen - how they thought they could abuse his pet without consequence.  Such men have no place in his regime.

As the seconds pass without pain one of the men dares to look up.  His eyes find the kitten and instantly slide away, terrified.  “My Lord - please - mercy.”

“You’d like me to stop?”

After a second of hesitation he nods, jerkily.

“Hmm.”  Graves idly traces patterns around his kitten’s nipples, drawing a small sigh from the boy.  “Did my kitten ask you to stop?”

The man freezes, caught.  Graves sees as he struggles to find an answer which won’t lead to pain, and he waits.

“Y-yes My Lord…”

“And did you?”

“We - I… No -”

_ “Crucio!” _

Graves watches the rest of his followers as the men scream and writhe, taking in each reaction.  Some look away, clearly ill at ease, while others stare resolutely forward.  A few watch with a sort of fascination, and Graves takes note of it all.  Rumors of this moment will spread, he is certain of it.

Graves has half a mind to let them scream until they can’t, but he has other plans for them as well.

“I understand what happened,” he says, almost placatingly, to the pathetic excuses for men before him.  “You have needs.  You couldn’t help yourselves.”  Graves watches them, waiting for them to take the out they think they’re being offered.

They fall over themselves to do it.

“That’s right - yes My Lord -”

“Yes, p-please understand -”

Graves’ smile is sharp and cruel.  “Then I’ll help you.”  He doesn’t give them time to think or protest, forcing them up again with a flick of his wand and holding them there.   _ “Evanesco,” _ he murmurs, satisfaction hot in his chest at their shocked looks as their clothes fall away and vanish.  Held rigid by his magic, there is nothing they can do.  

Graves considers them each, one by one.  Vile creatures.  They are no loss to him.

Slowly, deliberately, he points his wand between the legs of the man in the center, and sees the dread settle over his face

_ “Mollis Subtraxerim.” _

The man yelps, looks down, and dissolves into sobs.  “No, no My Lord, please no, I’ll never touch him again,  _ p-please!” _

“I know you won’t,” Graves says softly.  He watches as the man’s dick shrinks, growing smaller by the moment until it becomes a mockery.  The other two stare, horrified, struggling uselessly against the magic binding them in place.  

They’re next.

By the time it’s done Graves is satisfied, certain now that he has made his point.  No one who hears of this will dare to think of his kitten, ever again.  And as for the three men before him -

“There is no countercurse.  You’ll live out the rest of your miserable lives like this, pathetic and limp-dicked.  You’ll never act on your lust again.”  He gestures impatiently, done with them.  “Get them out of New York - out of the country.  If they return they face death.”

As they’re dragged away and the room slowly empties he turns his attention back to his kitten, looking up at him with wide, blue eyes.

“You see, my love?  You need never fear again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [ mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com ](http://mercurial-tenacity.tumblr.com/)!


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